In Preparation of that Which Will Follow
by Cumberbatch Critter
Summary: When does John ever understand what Sherlock's talking about, anyway? As long as he gets dinner in return, he's fine. Pointless drabble/friendship fluff in honour of upcoming Series Three! Basically contains a hyper Sherlock and a long-suffering John.


**In Preparation of that Which Will Follow**

"What do you think, John?"

"Mmm?"

"About the case."

"Don't think much, really. I'm exhausted."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Obviously." He crouched down next to the body. "If you look closely at this, you'll notice these pink speckles..."

"Great," John mumbled tiredly.

"John, no, _look_," Sherlock insisted.

"Oh, leave me alone. Just solve the case. I'm tired."

"John-"

John sighed heavily, crouching down next to Sherlock. His joints popped and cracked with the motion. He felt like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in over a week. He didn't even see what Sherlock was pointing at- it was probably invisible to the normal human eye- but he said "Fine, yes, pink. Great." before yawning widely.

Sherlock sighed heavily.

"Sorry," John muttered.

"That was sarcasm."

"Yes. It was."

Silence followed. Sherlock was staring at whatever on the crime scene and the body and John was practically dozing, leaning against the wall. Until-

"John, look."

"What now?"

"Oh, _how_ did Scotland Yard miss this?" Sherlock brought his hands together, steepling two fingers in front of his nose. "They've got to be blind; look!"

"I believe you..." John mumbled. He couldn't be bothered to open his eyes, even though Sherlock had apparently had an epiphany.

"Oh, this is Christmas after all. John! The game is on!"

John finally managed to pry his eyes open. "I gathered that from all the yelling you're doing..."

"I'm not yelling. I'm talking excitedly. Come here. Look. No, not at that. John, the evidence!" John crouched next to Sherlock again, stretching slightly, as Sherlock continued to babble. "This here signifies that he was having an affaire. Don't you see? This didn't belong to his wife. And the smell of the perfume is obvious. So, he was trying to avoid a scandal..."

"Did he kill himself?" John asked. Really, he _was_ exhausted and he _did_ want to go home, but if he was stuck here, he may as well _try_.

"What?" Sherlock made a face. "No. Obviously." He stood. "Come on." Sherlock was off without another word, striding down the hallway of the victim's house, like a blood-hound on a case.

John couldn't do anything except follow.

"This would be his fall from grace, John. Once this secret was out, his life would be changed forever. He _did_ contemplate suicide, from what I gather, but..." he trailed off. "Oh... _Oh!_"

"What? What did you figure out now?"

"He faked his own death... It was just an illusion." Sherlock turned and walked back out of the room just as quickly as he had walked into it.

"What are you on about?"

"It was all set up. And the funeral was fake. The empty hearse was just for a show and... oh, that's brilliant."

"Sherlock? Where are we going?"

"Did you see the rug, John? There was a sign of three people having been standing there. Now only one is dead. There's two missing, and one of those men is actually the one who is assumed to be dead. He was running away so he faked his own death. Don't you remember that recording? His last vow was to protect the people he loved. The person he loved was his new mistress, so he did what he had to get free. What better way than to fake his death, move out of town, and assume a new name. New name, new life, no problems."

John raised his eyebrows. He had no idea how Sherlock had made those leaps... he blamed it on being so tired... but, clearly, Sherlock had solved the case.

"Can we go home, then? Or at least, get something to eat?"

"What?" Sherlock looked at him distractedly. "Oh, yes. Until I can figure out where the faked death is hiding himself at right now."

"Great. Sherlock- Sherlock!"

"What?"

"Sherlock, Baker Street's this way."

"What?" Sherlock looked around. "Yes. It is. I am aware."

"Where were you going, then?" John asked with some amusement.

"... What?" Sherlock asked, his voice distant again.

"Could you _please_ get out of your mind palace for ten minutes? I'm going to leave you here," John said, amusement creeping into his tone as he looked for a cab.

"You wouldn't leave me."

"I would. I will, if you don't get in the cab."

"John!"

John flinched. "What?"

"He's going to be getting on a train! Paddington Station!" Sherlock announced to the cabbie who had just pulled up. Sherlock wrenched the door open and threw himself into the cab. "Come on, John!"

"Sherlock-"

"Oh, forget your takeaway. I'll treat you to that one place you like, with the reservations that no one can ever get."

John paused before closing the cab door. "That suit and tie affair? I really didn't want to go with _you_..."

"Who else would you go with?" Sherlock said flippantly.

He had a point. "Fine," John said reluctantly. "But I'm going to see if I can find someone to go with us. Maybe Sarah would..."

"Ugh. I thought you liked that blonde from the book shoppe?"

"Huh?"

"That one with the short hair and the fuzzy coat."

"Oh! Yeah... maybe. Would be a good first date..."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Paddington first. We have a killer to catch."

"Because you're always first priority," John muttered, mostly under his breath.

"Of course, John. Do you expect any different?" Sherlock grinned briefly at him.

John rolled his eyes, unable to help the smile on his own face. "No... No, I don't."

* * *

**While my muse isn't being lovely, my dedication to _Sherlock_ has returned. **

**BECAUSE THE TEASER TRAILER WAS FREAKING AWESOME even though there was, like, nothing in it. :p Except what appeared to be a tribble upon John's upper lip... So, this has no plot and no point, really, just friendshippy fluff showcasing references to each episode in all three series. There's a reference to each title, amongst other references to the episodes, so kudos if you find them.**

**Series Three! :D Believe in Sherlock!**

**(I do not own _Sherlock_.)**


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